Things need to change
by kissedbynight
Summary: My thoughts on a recent event at my school, that shouldn't have happened. contains thoughts on suicide, bullying, and Christianity. read even if you have hear this a thousand times before.


Okay, this is not a story, this is not anything but something I feel like I should share. Last week, someone in my school committed suicide because he was bullied. I hate bullying, and I wish I knew him more, wish that I talked to him, let him know someone was there; I wish I knew. I am going to tell you a lot of personal things that went on in my life, and most people who know me, aren't going to believe half of it because of what I stand for. So here I start.

All threw out school I have been bullied, picked on, scared to even go to school. When I was in grade two, I would cry and beg my mother not to let me go to school. the reason, one boy in my class, scared me to the point of tears every day. He would hold me by my neck, and threaten me with a pair of scissors. If I told anyone, he would hurt me. When I would be playing on the play ground, he would jump on me, he made me hit my head on a piece of wood. I tried to tell a teacher, I honestly did, but they said that there was nothing they could do because he has a "mental condition" that makes him behave this way. I was alone, I had no friends who would stand up for me, the teachers dismissed it, and let it continue.

I changed school's a year later, only to be tossed into the same situation. Grade three, I didn't have any friends, I was the new kid, I was challenged. I remember this girl, she fallowed me around the school, calling me names, I won't lie, I called them right back. After grade two, I knew I had to defend myself; so I did. I got in trouble, and had to write her a letter of apology, even when she started it, and I was the one that told on her.

Grade four, I made friends with the guys, they were my strong hold, they were there for me, and didn't get mad over little things. Grade four was the first year, besides preschool that I got in a fight. He called me weak, he said I couldn't do anything, I proved him wrong. I started the fight and I ended it. No one bugged me after that for the rest of that year.

Grade five I was picked on by my teacher, he called me names that I didn't like, he put me into situation that I was unconformable. He still does it when ever I see him, but now I don't mind as much, I have learned that it was just a taunt to rile me up.

Things were clam for a bit, nothing happened till grade eight, that was the worst year of my life. I was told by the principle's son, and his little goon "Lay off the Twinkies" he made fun of some personal things that mean a lot to me. that day, I tried to get away from him, but he fallowed. So I hid, waited for the bell to ring, ran inside, and cried in a bathroom small in the girls bathroom. I didn't go to class. I wondered the halls, called my home, and went home. I was so worked up, I couldn't breath, I couldn't stop crying. That night, I cried myself to sleep, and prayed that tomorrow would be better, that my friends would be there for me, they would tell me everything will be alright. I never got that. My best friend, didn't show up to school, and my other friends ignored me, and once again I was alone. I went to school in a blur, my parents had to work late that night, so I waited till 4:30 to call my best friends, I wanted to tell him good-bye. I was so tired of being alone, abandonment by the people I care about, but I had to say good-bye to him. As we talked, I had a knife in my hands, I was ready to take my life, I was ready to let those people who hurt me all these years feel a little guilt, I wrote letters put them under my mattress, so that when my parents cleaned my room, they could my friends know that I loved them. He talked me out of it, he taught me to be happy and to ignore what people said.

So hear me out when I say that suicide is not the option, it is anything but the option. All the pain, heartbreak, despair, loneliness, depression; there is always a better out come. Life is what we make it. I hated life for years, I hated going to school putting up with teachers who never listened, friends who were never there, people who taunted me to no end. I hated waking up in the morning, knowing I had no one. I thought I would be at peace when I slit my wrists and watching the blood drop as my life faded away. I thought it would be better. But talking to that one person...he made me see things I never looked at before. HE told me that I was special, that one day everyone who hurt me, everyone who left, everyone that made me cry would get what is coming to them in the end. He told me that every deep does not go unpunished.

Something I should have mentioned before, I am a Christian, and every school I went to was a Christian school. So I was bullied by teachers, and students who claimed to love God and all that he does, people who say that they treat others how they want to be treated, people who were raised the same way as me. Yet the people who sit every day in a pew at church, who listen to preacher, and read the bible daily, are the people who made me want to end my life. I am not a normal Christian, I don't believe in going to church, I hardly ever read the bible, I believe in gay marriage, believe that there is a possibility of a second life; I keep an open mind, but know my faith. So every time this happens to me, by someone who says one thing, yet acts completely different, I think that hurt me more then their actions. I would much rather be hurt by someone real, then a faker. This might be another reason why I hate Christian people, not all, but some; the ones that hide behind the Christian image, yet act completely different. And this goes for all religions.

Anyway's my topic. If it takes a death of someone to waken people up, then something is wrong. We shouldn't have to wait for someone to get into the extreme zone were they feel like no one is there for them. We should recognize the sign's, we should stop it when we see it, we should do anything but ignore it. People get bullied every day, to people you wouldn't think deserve it, to people you know, even you. Don't let the death of someone you know, or don't know be the trigger for you're anti-bullying life-style. You don't want that risk. Talk to someone, a friend, and adult, someone you trust, but don't keep it a secret; it might be to late if you don't share it when you see it, hear it, or experience it.

Brett, I am so, so sorry no one told, no one cared till it was to late. You deserved better then this. I hope you are at peace, and are surrounded by loved one'S where ever you are. You will be missed. 1995-2012


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